


Ink on Skin, Ink on Paper

by dylanbaetes



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Depression, M/M, Suicide, i literally wrote it in less than 2 hours, im such trash, lilly is the bomb, many trigger warnings about themes related to that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 03:33:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5318849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dylanbaetes/pseuds/dylanbaetes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A list of things Louis used to know about Harry and what he knows now</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ink on Skin, Ink on Paper

Louis knew a lot about Harry.

Louis knew deep, deep down Harry wanted it to end like this.

 

Louis knew he was unplanned. Harry didn't fall in love with him on purpose, but he did, and it changed nothing in the end. Ever since Louis’ 18 year old eyes met Harry’s 16 year old ones, already filled with more life experience than old men and more pain than a burning body, Harry knew he was different and the brightness that lit up his eyes the first time he saw him is one Louis would become very familiar with over the coming years.

 

Louis knew when he was 19, and so in love with someone so perfect, exactly how wrong he was about Harry’s past. The moment Harry came to bed after two hours on the phone, and Louis rose to hold him and listen to his heart. Until then, an untold life story was being punched out of him in bursts, practically tattooing the words in Louis’ neck. Louis cried because he didn't understand how Harry was 17. Seventeen years old, and so mistreated. Louis always had all the answers to all the questions. He was the oldest, the oldest brother in his family and in his band. It was his divine duty to know. For once in his life he didn't know.

 

Then he did, and it’s haunted him every day since.

 

Louis knew he loved Harry. Even more so, he knew that he would never love someone in the same sense again. He loved him so much, oh God. He loved him. He would have done anything on the planet to keep him. It’s the kind of love that artists have been trying to emulate in their work since before the dawn of language. No form of media could ever grasp the togetherness, the gravitational pull of each tiny molecule, and the microscopic lift of a knowing half smile of the love they shared. Louis finds words useless in describing how he loved Harry. But he knows that it was in every way humanly possible. It may have even been inhuman. Harry was the center of his universe. He and everyone else were simply satellites orbiting at the hands of his mercy.

 

Louis could sense the effect their situation had on Harry, he always said it was fine, but Louis knew. Harry wanted to be a musician. He wanted to make his living doing what was more natural to him than breathing. His dreams came true. He was a famous pop star. He was what every musician aspired to be. Whenever he would look to his side, he would find the love of his life and smile. They had to hide to maintain their position. They both knew. Louis, however, knew it was his place to take the brunt of it, as Harry had taken enough. He did so without complaint, and went on his staged dates and kissed his nameless acquaintances on the mouth in the name of fame. It didn't thrill Harry but Louis knew he appreciated his sacrifice. Louis was doing it all for him, always. He was certain that Harry knew. 

 

Louis knew he made Harry happy. For five years Louis made him happy. His smiles were genuine and his past was not forgotten, not healed, but overshadowed by the pure love they had between each other. Everyone who had been around them for more than 10 minutes felt the heat in their presence, and were envious. They wanted something as amazing as what they felt for each other and they were lucky. Looking back on it they really were so fucking lucky.

 

_The dark doesn’t just leave._

 

Louis knew he couldn't keep it away forever. Some day it would rear its ugly head and roar, claiming his boy from him, he knew deep down, and he didn't want to know.

 

Louis knew two things: promise and permanence. Their wedding day and their tattoos, were the most significant things in their lives. Permanent. Their bodies were permanently marked with declarations of their love for each other. There was a document to physically bind their promise to one another. Ink on skin. Ink on paper. Louis remembers how beautiful it was with lights and flowers, an orange hue pouring in from a setting sun. There were photos. Dust particles were captured as orbs framing the smiling faces of the sepia moments. But, nothing could have compared to Harry standing in front of him, saying vows he would repeat two more times later that night, once again pouring out the words onto Louis’ skin, absorbent and supple with tears. They needed permanent because Louis knew, even in the year 2013. 

 

Louis knew at the beginning of the year and he tried so hard. He tried to rush it, tried to do enough in the shortest period of time to be able to tell the truth, or just leave and never come back, but he could only manage to obtain a hiatus at the end of the year. He didn't how bad it was until it was the middle of the year and the therapy wasn't helping anymore. But he would've if he weren’t trying so hard to set up a coming out. He should've known. He was deafened by freedom. He tried to make it better, telling him how strong they are, how beautiful and amazing he is, how they would love each other until their dying day but it wasn't helping, but he knew. It wasn't enough anymore, and now he desperately avoids the region of what-if.

 

_What’s lost is found._

 

Louis knew Harry didn't want Louis to find him. As painful as the entire thing was, Harry knew it would have been worse if Louis had found him. He received a phone call instead. When he heard that Harry was in a car accident, he had only asked if he was alive and what hospital then it was over and he was leaving their home to the tune of his own heart-wrenching sobs, vision blurred with tears. 

 

An hour after he arrived at the hospital, Louis Tomlinson watched the love of his life, his husband, his soulmate, Harry Styles take his last breath in a sterile hospital room, bare and unsuited for the life he'd lived and the love they'd shared. He touched his cheek softly, desperately seeking the warmth that was quickly fading.

 

He went to the funeral and had no visitors to their home, other than family members who stayed for a day and then went home at Louis’ silent request. He still hadn’t said a word since the phone call he received on a late night in a late month of Harry’s last year.

 

Louis knew the day before the funeral that it was on purpose and that he left a note in the dash of his car before he ran it off the interstate at 92 miles per hour.

 

_Where do you want to sit?_

 

Louis knows this note is still with him at all times, his last connection to the light of his life. This note reflects Harry's faith that they will meet again, that he will always be with him, just look over to his side and smile. They'll always be right beside each other like they were meant to be. He thanks him for all he did, all the sacrifices, all the effort he put into this. It's okay, he tells him, you did all you could, it's not your fault. He saved him in so many ways and he made his world so much brighter just by standing next to him.

 

Louis knows he won't truly move on, ever. He still screams, cries, breaks everything in sight, considers giving up, even years later. But, Louis still turns to his side sometimes, smiles, and says I love you, even years later.

 

Louis knows about the song. He’s the only one who knows. Everything is still empty without him but he still breathes because Harry asked him to and he will continue to but he won't forget.

 

Louis knows, above all of these things, that he loved Harry Styles. Oh God, he loved him.

 

_The dark doesn’t just leave_  
What’s lost is found  
You will find me in the region of the summer stars, love  
Next to you 

_It’s ok to not know_

_I love you,_

_H_

**Author's Note:**

> Anyway I interpreted walking in the wind to be a suicide note so I wrote about what I think of every time. I'm sorry.


End file.
